


To the Blue Jay

by wildwesternwoman



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Major Spoilers, Other, Sad with a Happy Ending, Set During Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwesternwoman/pseuds/wildwesternwoman
Summary: It's been seven years since the events at Beaver Hollow and you find yourself reunited with John Marston. Which makes you think of another outlaw you once loved.Set during epilogue, MAJOR SPOILERS AEAD.





	To the Blue Jay

**Author's Note:**

> Please note, this is set during the epilogue there are MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD for the main story.

You never remembered it being this hot in Blackwater. The sun beat down hard on the top of your head as you rode up the main street of the town. 

Damn, how long had it been since you’d been here? _At least_ seven, eight years. You tried not to think of everything that had happened since then, the sadness, the anger, the grief at the hand life had dealt you. So, instead, you distracted yourself with thoughts of the pretty necklace you left at the camp you and the gang had to flee. Reckon it was still there? 

You laughed at the thought. There. That’s what you needed to remember. The good times, the silly times. Sean’s drunken shenanigans, Arthur’s gruff kindness, Hosea’s wise guidance. The things you loved so about the family you once had. Not to mention, the freedom you’d experienced the past few years. 

Things hadn’t necessarily been _bad_ , you’d stayed on your feet after everything that happened at Beaver Hollow. You’d done some small robberies before finally making it to civilization – if you could call Tumbleweed civilization. It was still somewhere where nobody knew your name. After that, you settled down. Took on honest work. 

You’d worked on a ranch, at a saloon, hell, even in a bank. You found yourself chuckling every day at the irony of _that_. But you just weren’t happy out west. You’d heard talk of one Jim Milton hanging around Strawberry and Blackwater and couldn’t help but wonder if it happened to be another man you once knew with those same initials. 

God, how you missed the old gang. Especially Arthur. Your relationship with the cowboy was somewhat up to interpretation. Were you _in love_? You never quite figured that out, but you certainly did love him. You thought he was one of the greatest people you ever met, you still thought that. And your heart ached when you thought about him, so you just didn’t. Seven years, you did everything in your to not think of him.

And damn was that hard.

So, now you rode down the main street of Blackwater, the last place you’d been with him when things had really been ok. The last place you’d been together before things went off the rails. And you were hoping, praying, to find the biggest reminder of him to date. 

_John._

Tall and strong, older and scarred, but still handsome as always. Coming out of the lumber yard. There he was. And everything you’d been trying to ignore, trying to not feel for seven years came flooding back to you. The sadness, the anger, the grief, the betrayal. 

“Jim Milton!” You called as your rode toward him.  
He turned dead in his tracks, giving you a deathly glare before realization spread across his face. “Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N! Is that really you?”  
You hopped off your horse, pulling him into a hug. “In the flesh. I hoped I might find you here.”  
“It’s been a long time.”  
“It sure has.” You smiled at him, the scared, but hopeful young rebel.  
“Hey, you ain’t gonna believe who else I seen lately. Sadie Adler.” 

Your mind flashed back to the last time you’d seen Sadie. A few days after Beaver Hollow, after Arthur, as you all tried to figure out what to do, where to go, how to be safe. She set off on her own, and you did, too. But her strength in all that she’d faced in life gave you strength, as well. 

“And Uncle,” John’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “And Charles Smith, too. They’re both out at my house. Well, what will be my house, it’s just my land right now. Ain’t much to it, yet.”  
“Well, look at you. Little Johnny Marston all settled down. How’s Abigail and Jack?”  
John flinched at your words, and for a moment you feared the worst. “They ain’t around right now. They’re waiting for me to get this house built and this ranch working. Then they’re gonna join me out here.” He looked at you, a look you swore you’d seen a thousand times in the many many years you’d known him. A hopeful, familiar look. “Would you wanna come out? See the land? You can stay with the rest of us. Kinda be like havin’ the old gang back together.” 

_Except Arthur_. Your heart wretched, but you only smiled. 

“I’d love to, John.”

So, you rejoined your old friends out at Beecher’s Hope. Laughing, and drinking, and fighting with the Skinner’s, chasing bounties with John and Sadie. It sure did feel like the old days, at least until you’d arrive back at the camp and it just _wasn’t_. No Javier on guitar, no Swanson drunkenly preaching, no Arthur. Just his strong, reassuring presence. It just wasn’t right.

The day finally came when it was time to start working on John’s house. The plans and material and tools all there in front of you, and you were ready and willing to help, as always. So, apparently, was a little blue jay that seemed to watch over you all the time. As you laid the foundation, it sat on joists, supervising. When John accidentally slammed the hammer down on his finger while laying the floor, it chirped out a laugh. It would stare almost thoughtfully at Charles as he worked. It seemed to like flying around and annoying Uncle, as well, particularly when he’d fall asleep on the job. 

“That damn bird!” He cussed one hot afternoon.  
“I like it.” You smiled as the bird chirped out, almost arguing with the old man. 

One evening, when you had climbed up on the roof to do some work with laying the shingles, it hovered near you. 

“I ain’t gonna fall,” You told it. “Quit you’re worrying.” 

You realized it sounded like you were talking to a person, but at this point, the little blue jay felt like part of the gang. It was a friend. You dreaded the day it flew away and didn’t come back. But it was here for now, and you were going to enjoy its presence and its song. 

As you rested in the shade of the tall chimney, the bird came to land on your knee, staring up at you with eyes almost human. Eyes you felt like you’d seen before. It chirped at you and you smiled back it. 

“Hey, little fella. Time for you to take a break too?”

It chirped back, walking further up your leg before settling down on your thigh, seemingly content. And you felt content, as well. The cool bricks against your back, the warm sun overhead, and the beautiful countryside that you called home, for now. It felt good to have your friends, your family, back again. For the first time in seven years, you felt alright. Content. Happy, even. 

That night, John slid down the latter, declaring the house officially finished and offering each of you a home there. The blue jay soared around the roof, singing the whole time before coming to land on the rail of the porch, watching the four of you as you admired your handy work. Your home. 

It was from this perch that the blue jay watched you all later that night, gathered around a warm campfire drinking and telling stories of your lives from the time you’d been apart. 

“ _When I was just a lad, you know, I met a gal from ol’ Bordeaux_ ,” Uncle started to sing after a particularly stiff drink. You each seemed to join in as you passed the bottle around. You thought you may’ve drank too much when you started to hear a high pitched noise join in. 

“ _That’s what you call the ring-dang-doo_!” They sang as you looked around, determined, even in you’re a bit inebriated state, to find the source of the noise. 

And then you saw it.

The blue jay. Joining in your song and singing with you. You couldn’t help but smile and raise your bottle. 

To the blue jay.


End file.
